


we go back

by fangirl6202



Series: ain't it a fine life? [5]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, David Jacobs-centric, Fist Fights, Gen, Immigration & Emigration, Italian Racetrack Higgins, Jewish David Jacobs, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Canon, Second in Command Racetrack Higgins, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl6202/pseuds/fangirl6202
Summary: Dad goes back to work and we go back to schoolIt was something Davey-- David had said to his little brother Les when they had first started working with the Manhattan newsboys. Something to remind both of them of their responsibilities.That was last year. Now a new school year was about to begin.David gripped Les' shoulder on their way to the school building."We don't have to go!" Les cried for what must have been the 12th time in the past half hour alone, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "Jack would let us hide!"David sighed. "We can't hide at the lodge, Les," he explained, looking around and thanking the Father that no newsie was on their street. He didn't think he could handle seeing the disappointment in any of their eyes. "We just can't."No matter how hard David tried, Les wasn't having it. "But why!?"David was trying to answer that for himself too.
Relationships: David Jacobs & Les Jacobs, Racetrack Higgins & David Jacobs
Series: ain't it a fine life? [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255790
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	we go back

**Author's Note:**

> For the Instagram Fam: Almost 6 months later, but I delivered. Hope y'all enjoy.

_Dad goes back to work and we go back to school_

It was something Davey-- _David_ had said to his little brother Les when they had first started working with the Manhattan newsboys. Something to remind both of them of their responsibilities. 

That was last year. Now a new school year was about to begin and David didn't know how to feel. The Jacob's hadn't been able to make the end of the last year, and they had both decided to work all summer, using the excuse that bills needed to be paid. 

It was really because the newsies of lower Manhattan had become a family to them. 

Jack with his commanding bravado who actually was the kindest to the children, Crutchie who fretted over them like a mother, Race who always let Les win at poker with a sly grin and a cigar in his mouth, Elmer who carried Les on his shoulders at the end of the long work day, Katherine who kept David's mind turning with conversations that only they could fully comprehend, Romeo who kept giving him new lines to try and woo new customers, and the countless other kids in the Lodging House.

Each and every one of them accepted the Jacobs' with open arms, even some Brooklyn boys did too when they came over for Race's infamous poker nights. Never did he expect to Spot Conlon , the king of Brooklyn himself, to start a conversation with him about biology with only a curt "I went to school, Mouth" as an explanation. 

The Newsies were a tight knit group, intertwined in a way David would never be with his schoolmates. If it were up to him, he'd stay with them. But a promise was a promise, and the Jacobs' were a family of their word, so David gripped Les' shoulder on their way to the school building.

"We don't have to go!" Les cried for what must have been the 12th time in the past half hour alone, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "Jack would let us hide!" 

David sighed. "We can't hide at the lodge, Les," he explained, looking around and thanking the Father that no newsie was on their street. He didn't think he could handle seeing the disappointment in any of their eyes. "We just can't."

No matter how hard David tried, Les wasn't having it. "But _why!_?"

David was trying to answer that for himself too. 

\-----

As he walked into his once familiar class-room, a feeling of surprise and unease he hadn't felt in ages hit him like a swing from the Delancey's. 

There were numerous faces he didn't recognize and that alone unnerved him. 

Of course he knew the law: any child, even immigrants coming through the island, had to be enrolled in school if they weren't workers. He hadn't realized just how many new kids would be in his class. Just a small look showed about 15 new boys, all huddled together where David sat last year. His usual spot was taken by a boy he didn't recognize and he scanned the room, looking for--

"David!"

_Oh thank the Lord._

Turning towards the voice, he saw a group of boys he once considered to be close. Alongside David, they were the boys everyone knew would make something of themselves. Future doctors, lawyers, businessmen. _Future Pulitzers..._

He couldn’t help but jolt at the thought.

David wasn't sure he still wanted that, but what truly mattered was the empty chair beside them. Giving a silent nod, he made his way over. 

He was ashamed to realize it took a second to remember the boys’ names. Theodore, Howard, and Charles. They all smiled at him, clapping him on the back as he took his seat. It was a familiar gesture, one of a close friendship. 

They had been close he could reason: they had come over for dinner more times than David could count and all of them brought small treats for Les and Sarah whenever they could. They were good boys, respectful, and would amount to great things in their lives. But something was missing…

None of these boys had the same fire and energy that the newsboys possessed, never having to fight for the right to live as those boys had had to. It occurred to David that maybe his friend group had not changed, but that it was he who had changed. 

"David, where have you been? We haven't seen you in ages."

He opened his mouth but found that no noise escaped it. He was saved from resembling a gaping fish when the teacher, a stout man whose mustache took up a great portion of his face, walked in. Instantly, every student stood, a unanimous chorus of "Good morning, Sir" filling the small room. 

Every student except the group of immigrants. 

David's cheeks flushed red as the teacher glared at the confused bunch. He had been on the receiving end of that glare only once, but had seen multiple pupils near beaten because of it. 

"When I enter," the teacher spoke in a low, warning tone. "You stand." 

One student, a small blond boy who reminded David too much of Crutchie cautiously stood, motioning for those behind him to follow his lead. "I am sorry," he said in halting English, a Polish accent slurring his words together. "We not know." 

A beat of silence passed before the teacher gave a grunt, his favored way of communicating with his students, and made his way to his desk, a signal for David and everyone to sit. 

Looking at the group of new boys, David felt a twinge of sympathy. It was a story most didn't share, but some newsboys had spoken of their experiences. He knew that Elmer was a son of Polish factory workers, sold off to pay debts. Crutchie hadn't the faintest idea where he was from, he had come so young, but had been abandoned on the street when polio left his leg a mess. Romeo was a child of Chinese immigrants, left with an abusive relative while his parents went west even though they never made it to California.

So many tragedies thrust upon children that David was sure he would never have been able to survive. 

He wasn't sure he would have wanted to. 

\----- 

"So what did you do over break, David?" 

The question he had been dreading since stepping foot into the schoolyard was suddenly on him and he couldn't avoid it. He tried to avoid it by placing a book in his lap, but his friends still asked. 

He wondered if he could lie, say he had done nothing and leave it at that, but he looked up and found Les on the other side of the yard. Les wouldn't abandon the newsies like that. 

"I, uh... I got a job." 

The response was immediate.

"What?"

"Where?!"

"Why?!" 

David nearly rolled his eyes. The boys had vocalized their disdain of the idea of working jobs that were 'beneath them' and David had thought the same not even a year before. 

"My father's leg got busted up on his job and I needed a job. That's why me and Les left last year. We started selling papes with the newsboys of lower Manhattan."

"Papes?"

David blanched at his slip up and corrected it. "Newspapers, papes. Same difference."

"But the newsboys of New York went on strike a few months ago, didn't they?” Charles pointed out, confusion on his face. “How's that?" 

David stuttered, trying to figure out a plausible explanation. "Uh, yeah, we did. It wasn't the original plan, but we--"

"We?” Theodore said, sneering. “David, please do not say you believe yourself to be one of them .” He placed a hand on David’s shoulder. “You're better than that." 

Before David could glare at the boy for even saying that, his attention was immediately diverted. 

"Hey!" A voice across the school yard rang loud and clear, making David look up from the book he wasn't truly reading anymore.

He saw Matthew, a boy who only showed for the first day of school so the authorities had records of him attending, standing over a young boy who was barely older than Les. It was obvious the boy didn't speak a word of English as the look on his face was of confused delight, not yet fully comprehending the situation. "Why dont you go back you fucking dago!?" 

_Oh no._

David watched in horror as the brute grabbed the kid by his jacket and threw him to the ground, heard a crunch followed by a pain filled scream that made his blood run cold. 

He was up in an instant and felt a hand grab at his shoulder, but he shrugged it off immediately. "David, no ," Howard whispered to him but in his rage, there was no way he could have heeded the warning. The book in his lap fell to the floor, but David was already halfway across the yard by the time he noticed.

"Hey!" He called out, shoving Matthew away from the boy. "Get off of him!" 

That had been a mistake. 

Matthew had been tormenting David since they were children, following him home and once even holding his head under a fountain to the point of unconsciousness. He wasn't someone to be trifled with. 

David had just asked to be carried out of the schoolyard in a wooden coffin. 

The look of anger on Matthew's face was enough to kill, but David had seen that face on the Delancey's more times than he cared for. Intimidation did nothing to him now.

"Leave him alone, Matthew," David said, glaring at him, fully aware of the attention on them. Every eye in the schoolyard was watching, anticipating a beating. David was too. Matthew was shorter than he was, David was a giant in all fairness, but he always had the ability to make David feel small.

He was damn near surprised to hear that his voice didn't shake out of fear but he managed a straight face. "He hasn't done anything to you." 

"Yeah?" Matthew taunted, cocking an eyebrow as he studied David. "Being a dago's 'nuff reason, Davey . What are you going to do about it?" 

The name, the newsies' name for him, was what got him. All his pent up anger and frustration and sadness caught up to him in that moment. He saw Racetrack in the young Italian boy still on the ground, he saw Crutchie in the Polish boy who stood in class, he saw Elmer and Jack and Romeo and Sharpshooter and Specs and Finch and everyone else in the boys in his class. He saw his family. 

And Matthew would do nothing to them. 

Without thinking, his fist connected with Mathew's jaw and he tackled him to the ground. Maybe it was the element of surprise, maybe it was his anger, but as the two fought, David's punches landed each time and it felt that Matthew's fell short. He supposed those stupid lessons with Jack on "how's to protect you'self" were proving to be effective. In too short of a time, two teachers David didn't recognize pulled the two apart, both still hollering like banshees. 

"He started it!" David screamed, trying to pull away as he felt more arms restrain him. "He hurt him!" No one bothered to listen as he was dragged out of the schoolyard, flailing when he saw no one helping the small Italian boy who still laid sobbing on the cold ground.

\----- 

"Davey, you're back!" Someone cried out the moment he stepped foot in the bunk room in the Lodge and a roar of excitement swelled throughout the room. All the boys felt it, hard, when David had to tell them he wouldn't be working as a newsie anymore. He had promised to visit regularly but even he hadn't expected to be back so soon, just after sunset of his first day. 

When he stepped into the gas light, however, the excitement turned to shock and anger. He knew what they were seeing: a swollen lip, bruises on his right cheek, a near shut right eye, and bandages wrapped around his left arm. 

"Land's sake, Davey!"

"The hell happened to you?!"

"Who's the bastard who did that to you?"

So many questions were being fired at him that Davey didn't have a second to even comprehend them all before Les piped up, voice beaming with pride. 

"Dave got in'a fight! And you should see the other fella!" 

The noise stopped. More than a few newsies' jaws dropped and David felt himself shrink under the gaze of so many people. 

"Wai' ," Racetrack said from his bunk, legs hanging off the bed as a lit cigar lay between his fingers. "You's means to say, our Walking Mouth Davey gots in a tussle?" 

"...yeah, I did." 

The next few minutes were filled with Les recounting the story with a few interjections from David _("he was not eight feet tall" "I did not start it!" "He wasn't crying like a baby, Les, tell the truth"_ ) while the newsies stared at David with a newfound pride in their eyes. 

"Our baby done grown up now," Romeo cooed, wiping away an imaginary tear as Elmer sobbed into his side, the both fawning like mothers. It was quite a show and David couldn't help but join in the laughter, wincing when his ribs began to ache. 

"Alright boys, fun's over," Race called, coming down from his bunk. A few newsies grumbled but no dared to defy the former Brooklyn boy. "Davey, come here, I'mma take a look at ya' wounds." 

Though David thought there was nothing for Race to check, the school's nurse had been quite thorough, his voice left no room for discussion. 

Sending Les with Elmer and Finch to play marbles, David followed Race up the stairs to a small room with a washtub and a toilet. 

"Jack not back yet?" He asked as he sat on the seat while Race got out the first aid kit kept in a small cabinet. It wasn't usual for Jack to not be in the Lodge after sundown. Before David could imagine the worst, Race scoffed. 

"Nah, decided to take Crutchie to Miss Medda's. Said they's both needed a day away and won't be back 'till tomorrow." Race said, a hand on David's sleeve. "You's mind?" 

David shook his head, and lifted his arms as much as he could. Race nodded his thanks and quickly unbuttoned his vest, laying it on top of the tub, and pulled his undershirt over his shoulders, going slow whenever David winced. 

Once he was bare from the trousers up, Race sucked in air through his teeth as he saw the bandages that covered his shoulders to his lower abdomen. "Jesus Christ , David." Race cursed under his breath, eyes scrutinizing him. David could tell his eyes lingered on his too-visible rib cage but that was a discussion for any other day. 

"You mind telling me what was so important that it was worth you getting these?" Race asked, carefully peeling the bandages away. 

"You guys fight all the time," David attempted to joke, mainly to avoid the truth. "I don't see why I can't too."

Race didn't find it funny.

"You better than any of us, Davey. This ain't you."

David couldn't find it in him to argue that, but it wasn't true. What was he in comparison to these boys? Just a kid who once thought he was too smart to have to find work as a newsboy. He didn't deserve to be better than any of them. The earlier words hurled at him came back in full force. 

"The boy I fought...he hurt someone. A kid barely older than Les. All because... because he's Italian." 

Race's hand stopped.

David was the only boy in Manhattan who knew Racetrack was actually named Antonio, a boy from South Italy who made the trip over as a child and found himself an orphan in less than a decade. Race faked an accent, never spoke of his past, and no one ever asked. Being an Italian, especially an immigrant, wasn't easy. Not even Jack or Crutchie knew.

David only knew because he had found Race in an alley near Jacobi's one night, singing Italian folk songs to himself whilst cradling a near empty liquor bottle. 

In a drunken haze, he confessed it was the anniversary of the day his ma left him and the day his sister died on the way to America. He said it whilst laughing hysterically. Before he could argue, David took the bottle from him and took him to the Jacobs home to rest. 

His parents had been shocked when he came in with a boy, obviously younger than him, leaning on him, singing in Italian, and reeking of alcohol. They knew David wouldn't bring someone near Les he didn't trust. Without saying much, they laid Race down to sleep in David's bed and he slept with Les. 

The next morning, Race sobbed into David's shoulder, saying he wished he could speak his own tongue, go by his God-given name, speak with his own accent. David had done nothing but wrap his arms around the boy's shoulder and let him cry. 

His parents had overheard, there was no way they couldn't have, but David didn't tell Race that. His parents understood it was something too personal to disclose.

"Oh." Race mumbled, not looking him in the eye. 

"Yeah," David replied. "Almost broke his arm the nurse said. And I just, I got so mad . Before I knew what I was doing, I was tackling him to the ground just to get him away from the kid." 

"You did all that for a dago?" 

The slur made David wince. He had a complicated history with slurs: he was Jewish, so he got his fair share, but he hadn't suffered nearly as much as the immigrants in the lodge or the colored boys either. He muttered a "yes" so quietly he almost couldn’t hear it. 

Race snorted at the response, barely concealing an eye roll. "Why? Why would you do that for one of us?" 

"...he reminded me of you. You, and Crutchie, a-and Elmer, and--"

"A'ight I get it, I get it. We's all immigrants and we's all worth your pity--"

"Don't say that."

There was a hardness in his voice that made both boys stop. David rarely raised his voice and rarely snapped. 

"I...I'm sorry," Racetrack mumbled after a moment, coming up to place a rag on his face. "Ain't my place to judge you's. What you did, Davey... not'a lot of folks would."

Davey winced as he felt an alcohol soaked rag touch the open wound on his cheek, the one the nurse cleaned up but hadn’t bothered to do much else. "You're fine, Race. I get it. I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Race nodded, and the subject was dropped. David sat there and let the boy do what he needed to do. After a few minutes, Race said he was done and helped the boy back into his clothes. "Come on, let's get Les. Your folks'll be waiting for you."

"Actually," David said, “I already visited my parents. Told them not to expect me back for a while."At Race's head cock, David grinned. "I can't go to school for the rest of the week. Suspension."

"Dave, I'm sorry. I know how important school is to ya." 

"It's fine," he said, waving the boy's concern away. "But Race, there is something you could do to help." He waited for the boy to nod, the universal signal for _I'm listening._ "Sarah's birthday is coming up, and I wanna buy her something nice. She's been looking at these silk ribbons for her hair, but they cost a pretty penny. It'd be real nice if I had a job for, oh I don't know, this week I have off from school. If the newsies have a spot open..." he trailed off, grinning at his friend.

Race grinned back, that mischievous glint in his eyes that only came when he was scheming. "Kids with bruises get more money, Davey-boy. I's think this beatin' of yours is a goldmine." 

When they reached the bunk room, they were pleasantly surprised to see a full-fledged circle going on. Mush had brought out his fiddle, Henry was singing, Albert was playing the spoons, and everyone was dancing. Les was being twirled around by Specs, laughing hard and trying hard to follow the older boy's footwork and everyone was cheering them on. Race grinned down at them, placing his cigar back between his lips, as David began to chuckle. He had missed this.

"Les!" He called out, grabbing the boy's attention and everyone else. The music stopped suddenly and David could feel the good mood dissipating, but he smiled, teeth and all. "Find a bunk for us! We're staying here for a while!"

The cheer that rose could have more accurately been described as a roar, and he hopped off the final step only to have his brother charge towards him and throw himself into his arms. David caught him with an oof , ignoring the pain that shot up his side.

"We're staying!?" He asked, all toothy-grin and boyish energy. Davey prayed Les would stay like this forever. But he knew he would have to grow up, so Davey only ruffled his hair and smiled at him. 

"Yeah, Les. We're staying."

\----- 

The next day, David laughed as he walked down the street, head high, surrounded by each and every newsboy of lower Manhattan beside him. 

When the morning came for the Jacob boys, he headed out to walk Les to school with his papes in hand and was shocked to find the newsies following him. 

" _What are you doing?"_ He had asked to no one in particular, and Jack (who had been the one to wake him by standing mere inches away from his face and screaming) grinned. 

" _Our favorite boy's heading off to school and we wanna see him off. You's gotta problem with that, Davey-boy?"_

He didn't. 

Les must have felt like the King of New York, sitting high on David's shoulders and holding David's papes for him. The crowds parted like the Red Sea as the boys made their way to the school, and they somehow began dancing and singing on the streets, skipping and flipping and hopping. David hadn't smiled that hard in ages. 

By the 44th rendition of _Old Dan Tucker,_ David's laughter stopped as he stood a mere foot away from the fence of his school. 

For over a year, he had kept his two lives separate. For over a year, his newsie family didn't know his schoolmates and David was fine with that. It wasn't that he was embarrassed of his family, no. He could never. It was that he was scared to admit he had changed. 

How could he look the newsies in the eyes and tell them that he before, anytime he'd see a boy hocking a pape, he'd scoff? David couldn't. He was too ashamed of himself. 

And now, the only thing keeping his two worlds apart was a fence. 

David startled when Jack came up to place a hand on his shoulder, a kind look in his eyes. Without saying anything, Jack helped him lift Les off his shoulders and put him down. 

"You be good now, Les, you hear?" Jack said. "Don't be giving your teachers any trouble." 

Les muttered something too low for David to hear but it caused the boys to laugh and earned Les a cuff on the ear. 

Every newsie then moved to hug Les goodbye and it was the perfect distraction for Race to slip away and head further down the fence. 

"I'll be right back," David said to the newsies, gripping onto Les' shoulders. 

Before even having stepped foot in the yard, he felt rather than heard the murmurs about him. With one hand on his brother's shoulder and the other hoisting his papes over his shoulder, dozens of paper boys behind him, he was definitely a sight. David couldn't help but feel self-conscious, but Les just smiled and waved at his friends, pointing at David as if to say _Look! I told you!_

He smiled at that. At least Les was proud of him. 

"David!" 

The voice jerked him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see his old friends coming up to him. Theodore, Charles, Howard, all in their uniforms. 

"In the name of the Lord, David," Theodore said, gaping. "You look-- uh, that, er, that is to say--"

"Like shit?" Someone said behind them, probably Albert from the look of things, and the newsies chuckled at the look of abject horror on the boys face. 

"N-Not to put it so _crudely,_ but--" 

"I look like shit." David finished, because he could. He couldn't resist the smile on his face as he let Les laugh. "Its fine, I know I do." 

"I've never known you to curse, David," Charles noticed, eyebrows raised and surprised. 

"And I've never known Davey to watch his mouth," Jack retorted, gaining a laugh from everyone. It seemed only then that the boys noticed the crowd behind them and they startled. 

"Oh, uh, sorry," David said, turning to his family. "Boys, these are my friends. Theodore Beckett, Howard Edwards, and Charles Wright."

Both groups waved, though the newsies did it with much more enthusiasm. Jack raised his hand to his mouth but one look from David made him drop it quickly. He stuck his hand out and smiled charmingly. 

"Mornin' fellas. Name's Jack Kelly and I'm the borough leader of the Newsboys of Manhattan. And these are my boys."

David laughed at his friends' faces as the newsies introduced themselves one by one, names outlandish and personal and each more unique than the last. 

"Oh Lord. Crutchie, Boots, Finch, Mush, Sharpshooter...are you the only one that goes by your Christian name?" 

"Well, I go by Cowboy," Jack said, not unkindly. "Never said I was born Jack, but that ain't your fault. No one's knows my so-called Christian name just like I don't any of theirs. All us got's stories before we became newsboys. Some of 'em ain't pretty. A newsie name is so you's ain't associated with your past. Even Davey here got one."

"And," Another voice said and they all turned to see Racetrack sauntering back towards them, cigar lit and dangling from his smirking lips. "Almost none's of us is Christian."

All the newsies chuckled at that: it was true as well. Few newsies practiced _any_ religion, had lost their faith sometime in their life, and David didn't judge. He _did_ see Theodore twitch though, being a pastor's son, so he widened his eyes at Howard in a silent gesture to switch the subject. Luckily, he caught on. 

"Matthew really did a number on you," He said, staring at the bruises and bandages on his -- well, everything. "Haven't you thought of not, uh, working today?" 

"Its a good thing he _is_ working today," Jack answered before David could. "With those bruises, he's gonna get sympathy. 'S the best thing a newsie could ask for."

"More bruises means more money," Race teased, winking and tipping his hat. 

"They're right: without Les, the sympathy ploy's my best option." 

"Les?" Charles inquired. "How's he…?"

Without breaking eye contact, he passed a pape down to Les who knew immediately what to do. Jack was the best seller in Manhattan, but he had nothing on Les’ acting ability. He began to cough something awful, limping forward and curling in on himself. 

"Buy me last pape so's I can head home, sir?" Les croaked, looking up at them with the biggest eyes David had ever seen. The look of genuine concern and horror on David's friends faces was nearly laughable.

"In the name of the Lord," Charles whispered, looking at Les. "You really say those types of things?" 

"You betcha!" Les piped up, dropping the act and grinning from ear to ear. "Me and Davey clear out 50 papes in a day!" David wasn’t proud of having Les lie just to make ends meet, but he prayed hard every night to repent. He only hoped Les would never feel that guilt. 

"50 newspapers seem an awful lot," Theodore said, looking up at David for confirmation. 

"It's enough to get me and Les a bed for the night, but it's tight. That's why I took 100 papes today." He gestured to the enormous stack on his shoulder, wincing a bit as he tried to shift the weight. "It'll be tough, but I'm up for the challenge." 

And a challenge it would be. He had only recently felt safe grabbing 50 papers, a standard amount, and double that amount seemed an enormous feat. Jack's eyes had widened to the size of dinner platters when David coughed the money over. 

"You's ready for that much, Dave?" He had said. 

"Do I have a choice?" David had replied and left it at that. To answer the question, he didn't. 

His three friends looked at each other, then to David and the newsies. They all looked as if they wished to say something, but at that moment, one of the teachers came out to ring the morning bell. 

With a quick run back to hug every newsie again (a feat in itself), Les grabbed David's hand and ran with him past the fence. 

He struggled to keep up, what with his injuries and all, but he was soon kneeling, his papes on the ground, giving Les a hug. "I'll be back after school, alright? Wait for me." 

Les nodded, grinning in the way only he could, before seeing his friends and running towards them with a " _Bye David!"_

He waved back even though he knew Les couldn't see him, picking himself up and throwing his papes back on his shoulder. 

_“Hurry up, Davey! We’re wasting daylight!”_

Shaking his head, he made his way back before stopping to stare. His friends hadn't moved from their spot and it appeared they had no plans to. 

"Fellas," he said. "The bell already rang." 

"We know," Theodore said. 

"Then why…?"

The boy sighed, passing a hand over his face. "David, what I said yesterday, it wasn't right. I had no right to make you feel inferior for providing for your family." He glanced at the newsies. "And I had no right to say you're better than them 

"In order to make up for it, I'd like to help you sell your papers."

Before David could even register it, Charles and Howard stepped forward. 

"Count us in as well." 

David looked at each of the boys and was struck with a realization. For the first time in the whole time they'd known each other, their eyes held the same fire and determination that he saw in the newsies every single day. Something in him knew nothing would change their mind. 

Gaping a bit, he turned to Jack, who crossed his arms and shrugged. Smirking, he said, “They’s really adamant in wanting ya' forgiveness, Davey. Ain’t much I can do but let ‘em.”

David smiled and was surprised to find himself holding back tears. He coughed to cover it, but it only seemed to concern his friends. 

"Here," Charles said, reaching out and grabbing a hold of his papers. "Let me." 

"You sure?" David hesiated. "It can be a weight." 

Charlie scoffed and proceeded to take them from David, huffing out an " _oof"_ as he hoisted them on his shoulder. 

"Might be a bit heavier than I thought," he admitted before puffing out his chest. "But how hard can it be?" 

\-----

" _You?!"_ Howard asked, step faltering and jaw dropping so far, David's mother would tell him he'd catch flies. 

"Yes, him!" Racetrack cried, beaming with pride as they walked down the streets of Manhattan together. "Should've seen him! Riling thousands of newsboys to join our cause! If it weren't for Davey, none of it would have happened."

"David Jacobs? Behind a city wide strike?" Charles asked, grunting as he struggled with the stack of papers on his shoulders. "I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Theodore chimed in, looking at David in fascination. "I can't even remember the last time you spoke in class without shaking."

"The real trick isn't getting 'Walking Mouth' Davey to start stopping, it's getting him to _stop."_ Jack teased and David shoved him. 

"Walking Mouth? Because he spoke at the rally?" 

"And 'cause he mouthed off at Joseph Pulitzer the next day."

" _He did_ **_what?!_ **" 

\----- 

David and Jack laughed from where they sat as Charlie tried to hand off the newspapers that grew to be too much strain on his shoulder. 

Though he offered to help, his friends wanted to sell their 25 papers by themselves and so far were doing fine. They read the paper from start to finish and engaged street-goers in conversation and it seemed to work. 

Jack, being the mother hen he was (though he refused to admit it), stuck close by and sat with Davey when his papers were gone too. It was past lunchtime and David's 25 papers went quickly, and he treated himself and Jack to a sandwich with the extra pennies he earned. It was only them now, as Racetrack had left hours before when a newsie David didn't know appeared and stared him down. He had been prepared to run for Jack, but Race had told him he knew him and was going to sell with him today. 

David had been surprised: Race hadn't had a selling partner in over a year and, memory serving him, Race's selling spot was in the opposite direction the two were heading. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd say Race was heading towards Brooklyn.

"Your friends are something else, Davey," Jack grinned, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

"They really are." David agreed, watching as Howard spoke to a well-dressed couple and received a dime for either entertaining or annoying them. 

"I can see why you's all got along." Jack said, staring out at them and his smile dropped. "Those boys got a big future ahead of them." 

David heard something in Jack's voice he had never heard before. He would almost call it fear, but it was more than that. Insecure was a feeling he never would have pinned on Jack, but he pulled it off. 

"Jack? What's wrong?" 

Jack didn't meet his eye, looking down at his shoes and biting his lip. It struck him that Jack looked _small,_ almost child-like. He was so still that David thought he wasn't going to respond, the hesitation almost scaring him. 

"Those fellas don't need to be out here on the streets. They can afford to go to school and get good paying jobs and look down on us. They's out here for you and that's it." 

David knew he was right but it was still an odd thought to dwell on. 

"Is that all?" He asked gently, scared that Jack would take offense if he phrased it any other way. 

"No," Jack scoffed, some of his cocky anger rearing it's head. He finally looked up at David, his eyes dark and desperate . "It ain't. It-- it ain't _fair._ I's been hocking the pape longer than I wanna say, and I never got that choice. No one in they's right mind would choose this over going to school and living a normal life. These boys sure as hell aren't gonna start working with us and you're gonna realize soon enough that you can do better--" 

His eyes widened as he realized what he said, looking away and cutting his ramble off so quickly, David had to register the fact he had stopped speaking before he could begin to register what Jack said. 

David had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts and emotions that he hadn't spared a thought to consider those around him. Not once did he stop to think that Jack, or any newsie for that matter, was worried that he would leave them. Leave them the same way he had left his old friends. 

"Jack," he said softly, but the boy didn't look at him. 

_"Jack._ " He repeated, firm this time and the boy did turn to him. He put a hand on Jack's shoulder, making sure to look him in the eye. He had to make sure Jack was listening to him. 

"The newsies are my family. _You_ are my family. I could never 'do better' than that. Yes, I have to go to school now, but that will never change how I feel about you guys. I will never look down on you and I will never think I'm better than you. Not even when we're grown and can't sell papers anymore. I'm not going anywhere."

"You mean that, Davey?" 

"I do," David said, smiling at his friend. "I mean, I have to. Les would beat me if I ever said otherwise." 

They laughed together, and Jack threw an arm around his shoulder to hug him, and even though David wasn't big with physical affection, he welcomed the embrace. 

"You're always welcome at the Lodge," Jack said, tightening his hold. "You and Les have a home there." 

"Thank you." David knew it was true and the statement made him feel emotional. "Les and I'll come by as often as we can. Maybe we can even ask our parents about selling on weekends." 

"I'll hold you to that, Mouth." Jack said and David rolled his eyes at the nickname. Jack pulled away, trying his best to be nonchalant as he wiped at his eyes. It was a failed attempt, but David didn't say a word. 

"You Jacob boys best come back to us, you hear?" Jack ordered, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

David nodded, and he thought of the promise he made the previous year. 

_Dad goes back to work and we go back to school._

His parents and him had agreed to that so that his and Les' education would continue. None of them could have ever known that a group of newsboys would teach them more than school ever could. 

They would grow up, David knew, they would have to. In two years time, Jack and the older newsies would be leaving the Lodge to find other jobs. Sellings papers was a child's job. They all knew that. 

But David knew that what they had would never disappear. As naive as It was, he thoroughly believed their friendship would survive thick and thin. 

He knew they would always go to the newsies. 

He knew he would always come back to them. 

**Author's Note:**

> And so a long journey ends. I saw an Instagram post stating that David's story must have sounded insane to his schoolmates and so this fic was born, even if I did post it 6 months after beginning it. 
> 
> Oh this fic has taken such a large part of my heart. I've found a new appreciation for David, for his friendship with Jack and Race (Dave & Race is an underrated friendship), for writing in general if I'm honest. 
> 
> I'm kind of sad to see this story to end, but I'm glad I can now share it with the world. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed, leave me comments and all that. Thank you ❤


End file.
